The Way the World Begins
by TakeAWhackAtIt
Summary: Post-Dames at Sea. The thought of being with Jack was something Will had rarely allowed himself to consider. So why had Karen’s words left him feeling so bereft? As though a chance he hadn’t even known he’d wanted had taken from him? Will/Jack.
1. Wind in Dry Grass

**Title**: The Way the World Begins

**Author**: TakeAWhackAtIt

**Pairing**: Will/Jack

**Rating**: T

**Warnings**: none

**A/N:** My roommate got me addicted to Will & Grace several months ago, and I'm almost done watching the episodes from all eight seasons. This story originally started out as several random Will/Jack scenes that I then merged together into this monster. Not only is this my first W&G fic, it is also my first slash fic (that I've written, not read). It is also, quite possibly, the _longest_ fic I've ever written. The story is completely done, and I'll post probably about a chapter a day (there are 5 total the way things are set up right now).

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Will & Grace. Nor do I own T.S. Eliot's "The Hollow Men", which is the poem I quote at the beginning of each chapter. I found the words to the poem fitting, in a strange way- let me know if you agree.

**Part I:**

"_We are the hollow men  
We are the stuffed men  
Leaning together  
Headpiece filled with straw. _

_Alas!  
Our dried voices, when  
We whisper together  
Are quiet and meaningless  
As wind in dry grass  
Or rats' feet over broken glass  
In our dry cellar."__  
_

The door closing after Karen's rather dramatic pronouncement seemed to echo in Will's apartment, the absence of her chatter making the room seem painfully quiet as the two men stood in awkward silence.

Jack felt as though his heart, which had been fluttering with the possibility of something _more_ developing with Will, had dropped out of his chest and started forming some kind of puddle beneath his feet.

Nothing had happened.

And now, if the rush of relief in Will's eyes was anything to go by, nothing ever would.

* * *

Ever since he had woken up next to Jack, Will had been filled with a dizzying mixture of emotions. The idea of being in a relationship with Jack, of even having just _slept_ with Jack was…indescribable. Just like the man himself.

The thought of being with Jack was something Will had rarely allowed himself to consider for even the briefest of moments. But once or twice, in the solitary darkness of his bedroom after yet another failed relationship, or following one of Jack's quips about Will checking out his ass or secretly being in love with him, Will had contemplated the idea of his friendship with Jack becoming something more. And waking up with his best friend naked next to him had brought those vague, secret imaginings forcefully to the front of his mind. Since that morning, Will had searched his mind for any memory of what might have transpired between them, wondering if Jack's hand brushing against his as Jack handed him the coffeepot one morning should remind Will of some other kind of touch, or if the warmth of Jack's breath on his ear as the younger man leaned over Will's shoulder to read Leo's letter to Grace should spark memories of something _more_. But there were no sudden floods of memory- apparently, because nothing had happened to make the memories in the first place.

And, after the initial rush of relief- that first, instinctive thankfulness at the idea of a reprieve from the thoughts that had been relentlessly plaguing his mind- Will couldn't decide if he was delighted or devastated.

* * *

Jack, never one to be comfortable in silence, was the first to speak. "So…nothing happened!" He forced himself to sound cheerful and unsurprised, as though he'd expected nothing less, mentally cringing as the emotions rang horribly false in his ears and heart. He just prayed that Will, caught up in his own relief, hadn't noticed.

The other man nodded. "Nothing happened!" Will repeated- as if reassuring himself of the statement's truth, Jack thought. If possible, his spirits fell further.

An uncomfortable silence descended yet again as the men just stared at each other. Feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious, Jack cleared his throat. "Well, now that _that's_ settled, I think I'll just…" he motioned jerkily towards the door, "Head home."

Will's agreement came almost too quickly. "Yeah, that sounds like a plan. I've got some…stuff to do." The excuse sounded lame even to Jack's ears, but he was so desperate to escape the tension that was all but choking him that, without making eye contact, he mumbled a goodbye and left.

Jack walked the few feet to his own front door and fumbled for the doorknob, ignoring the slight tremor in his hands. As he pushed open his door, he was startled to hear Will's door open behind him. He froze, halfway inside the safety of his apartment, when he heard Will's voice.

"Hey, Jack?" Will's tone soft, tentative.

Jack turned slowly, leaning deliberately against his doorframe. "Yeah, Will?" Though Jack succeeded in schooling his face into the perfect image of nonchalance, the high-pitched timbre to his voice told an unfortunately different story.

Will took a hesitant step into the hallway. "Are we…" He faltered. "Are we okay?"

Forcing himself to remain casual, to pretend as though everything between them was completely unchanged, Jack nodded and asked, with a hint of confusion, "Of course we are, Will. Why wouldn't we be?"

Ha- and people said he couldn't act.

The other man blinked. "No…no reason!" Will chuckled lamely. "I just wanted to make sure things weren't going to be, you know, _weird_ between us after this whole fiasco."

Oh. So, Will saw this thing- the possibility of having slept with Jack- as a fiasco. Despite the sting Will's words caused, Jack kept his face carefully neutral. "Why would things get weird? Nothing happened, remember?" Jack's tone and the unspoken _duh _at the end of the sentence implied that Will was a moron for even thinking such things and would he please stop wasting Jack's time with useless questions, thanks so much. Jack hoped it was enough to satisfy Will so he could escape to his apartment

"Right, right- of course," Will hastily agreed. "You're absolutely right. I just…wanted to check, that's all."

"Well, now you did, and we're fine." Jack hoped the smile he directed at Will wasn't as strained around the edges as it felt.

"Okay, then. Well," Will smiled back at Jack, and seemingly pacified, began walking back towards his own apartment. "See you later, Jack." For the briefest of moments, Jack thought he caught a hint of something like regret in Will's eyes, but it was gone so quickly that he thought he must have imagined it- a trick of the light, a product of his own wishful thinking.

Jack hummed a noncommittal response and quickly opened his door, sighing in relief when he was safely inside his own apartment, with two doors and a hallway between him and Will. He flicked the lights on, closing his eyes against the sudden glare of the lights as he slowly slid down to sit on the floor, back against the door and knees pulled up towards his chest.

He shouldn't be hurting as badly as he was. Jack had known for years that Will wasn't interested in him romantically, had come to terms with that fact over the years out of pure necessity. But he'd allowed himself – stupidly, foolishly, naively—to believe that that morning could change things between them, that that single, solitary incident could prove years of history false.

Jack thought, as he sat in the silence of his apartment, that he'd never been more wrong.


	2. Cactus Land

**Author's Notes:** Please, let me know what you think of this story. As I said, it's my first W&G story _and_ my first slash story, so I'm a bit nervous. Are Will and Jack in character? Does the dialogue sound realistic? Any comments, constructive criticism, praise, etc you can give would be extremely appreciated.

**Part II**

"_This is the dead land  
This is cactus land  
Here the stone images  
Are raised, here they receive  
The supplication of a dead man's hand  
Under the twinkle of a fading star."  
_

Will closed the door softly, somehow fearing that any kind of noise would break the strange contemplativeness that had come over him in the last few moments. This day—hell, the past ten minutes—had thrown him for so many loops he felt as though he no longer knew which way was up.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in his apartment felt stifling- the walls too close, the ceiling too low, the lights too bright—and so he headed towards the balcony, hoping the fresh air would help clear his mind. Absently, he noticed a wine bottle he'd opened earlier and decided to have a glass. At this point, he felt as though alcohol couldn't impair his thinking any more than the day's events already had.

Glass in hand, he walked slowly across the balcony and leaned against the wall, letting the sounds of the city wash over him as his mind whirled through what had transpired earlier.

Nothing had happened. And that was what Will had wanted. The idea of him and Jack together was laughable, almost absurd.

So why had Karen's words left him feeling so bereft? As though something he hadn't even known he'd possessed had been ripped away from him? As though a chance he hadn't even known he'd wanted had taken from him in the blink of an eye?

He swallowed wine hard and pretended the lump in his throat was because of something in the city air.

* * *

Jack paced the length of his apartment restlessly. In the fifteen minutes since he and Will had parted ways, he'd tried—and failed—to distract himself by watching television, reading the latest issue of In Style magazine, even brushing his hair 100 times. The diversions worked for a few minutes, but his thoughts always returned, inevitably, to Will.

Frustrated, Jack collapsed on his couch in a huff. This was ridiculous. He'd lived for years with the reality that Will did not have feelings for him, and he'd even convinced himself that he'd long since moved on from his youthful crush on Will. So why had this one, brief possibility that something could have happened between them put him in such a tizzy?

He thought back to their stilted conversation in the hallway, remembered the unusual tentativeness in Will's voice, the way he'd avoided meeting Jack's eyes for more than a heartbeat, the regret that Jack could swear he'd seen in Will's eyes.

But, why regret? Jack thought he'd done a sufficient job of seeming unaffected and unhurt by all that had happened. Will would have no reason to regret anything he'd said or done, because he hadn't said or done anything that had—at least outwardly—upset Jack.

Unless…unless it was something he _hadn't_ said or done. Something that he hadn't had a chance to finish.

Everything that had happened flashed like lightning through his mind until one particular memory hit him with almost palpable force .With a sharp intake of breath, Jack bolted out of his chair and out his front door, pausing a beat to gather his courage before entering Will's apartment.


	3. Between Conception and Creation

**Part III**

"_Between the conception  
And the creation  
Between the emotion  
And the response  
Falls the Shadow."_

Will had no idea how long he'd been sitting on his balcony, trying to escape his thoughts and instead getting lost in them- it could have been minutes or hours. All he _did_ know was that he'd just finished the last of his wine, and was currently trying to work up the energy to go get more.

With a long sigh, he set the glass aside. Drowning his—well, _sorrows_ wasn't the term he would have chosen, but he supposed it fit well enough—probably wasn't the best way to handle the situation, though it certainly had the most appeal at the moment.

He winced slightly as he straightened from where he'd been leaning against the wall, knees aching dully from standing motionless for so long. Ignoring the reminder of just how old he was getting, he turned to head back inside, freezing mid-motion when he caught sight of a figure in the doorway.

"Jack?"

* * *

Jack's entrance into Will's apartment, like many of the entrances in his life, was made with a bang. This time, it happened to be a literal one- the nervous energy coursing through Jack's body had led him to open the door a little overzealously. Heart pounding, he glanced around the room quickly, expecting Will to come marching out of one of the rooms, demanding to know the source of the ruckus.

No one came.

"Will?" Jack called out cautiously. It was still too early for anyone to be in bed, even someone as boring as Will. He tried again, a little louder. "Will!"

Nothing.

Confused, Jack slowly wandered through the apartment. He checked both bedrooms and bathrooms- empty. Will's coat was still there, so he hadn't left the apartment. Jack spun in a slow circle, contemplating where else Will could be. He stopped short when he spotted the doors in the back of the apartment- the balcony. Suddenly torn between the desire to confront Will and run like hell, Jack forced himself forward, fighting the irrational urge to tiptoe as he made his way towards the balcony.

Once he got closer, he could see Will through the doors, leaning with his back against the wall and holding an almost empty class of wine. The setting sun cast odd shadows, obscuring Will's face and frustrating Jack. But, as if Will had sensed Jack's irritation, he shifted ever so slightly, freeing his face from shadows and exposing him to Jack's curious eyes. He'd known Will for years, and the only time he'd known his friend to spend time alone on the balcony was when something—or someone—was upsetting him.

Will certainly didn't look happy. There were no tear tracks on his cheeks and, from what Jack could tell, his eyes weren't red, so at least he hadn't been crying. But he did look…pensive. Sad. Almost miserable, Jack reflected as he watched Will absently drain the last of his wine from his glass.

Jack slowly, quietly opened the door. Will, apparently lost in thought as he stared sightlessly ahead, didn't hear the soft creak of the door hinges or notice the way Jack's body blocked the light coming from inside the apartment. Jack simply stood, silent, trying to think of what he would say to Will.

And then all thoughts fled his mind when Will turned and caught sight of him, surprise and something Jack thought might be fear flitting through his expression before pure shock replaced both. "Jack?"

For what was quite possibly the first time in his life, Jack found himself without a single word at his disposal. He merely nodded, taking in the warm glow that the dying sun gave to Will's skin and hoping that he wasn't about to screw everything up.

Will took a step closer, faltered. "Do you need something?" When Jack didn't respond, Will closed the rest of the distance between them, faint worry and concern taking the place of shock. "Are you okay?" he asked, placing a cautious hand on Jack's arm.

The warmth of Will's hand on his arm somehow shocked him out of whatever daze he'd been in. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. But," Jack swallowed, mouth painfully dry, "I need to ask you something."

"Okay." Will drew out the word, lengthening it into an unspoken question.

"Earlier, before Karen came in." Will immediately tensed at the reminder of earlier incidents. Jack continued, determined to ask his question. "Before she interrupted, you were about to say something. What was it?" Jack was proud and mildly shocked that he had been able to get the question out without his voice shaking.

Will quickly tried to brush the question aside with an offhanded, "I don't really remember Jack. Sorry."

"You've never been a good liar, William." Jack retorted. "So don't try starting now." He _knew_ what Will had been about to say, knew it in his bones, but…he had to hear Will say it. Because, though Will might have been willing to confess in safety of the "honest moment" they'd declared, Jack didn't know it if the same would hold true out here, surrounded by fading light and shifting shadows.

Will withdrew his hand from Jack's arm and crossed his arms against his chest. "I really don't remember Jack." He retreated to his former place by the wall, trying to put some semblance of distance between himself and his interrogator.

Jack persisted, because something in the way Will wouldn't meet his eyes and the way his arms were folded almost defensively against his chest sparked a glimmer of _something_ in Jack's chest, something unnamable and tremulous. He followed Will to the wall, purposefully invading Will's personal space.

"Will." Jack's voice was soft, but the hint of demand it carried travelled in the short distance between them.

Will finally, _finally_ met his eyes, and Jack could see so many swirling emotions in the brown depths that it almost made him dizzy. "_Jack_.´ The word was barely a breath, but Will was so close that Jack could practically feel it against his lips, and in that one word Jack heard fear, desperation, and longing.

Suddenly, Jack was overcome with the burning need to know, to _taste_, and so he closed the few remaining inches between them, softly, softly pressing his lips to Will's in a barely-there kiss. Will tensed momentarily at the contact, but then Jack's hands, warm and reassuring, cupped his cheeks, the pads of his thumbs lightly stroking Will's cheekbones. After a long moment, Will uttered a quiet, broken sound of defeat and relaxed against Jack, eyes fluttering closed.

A/N: I know, it's a bit of an odd place to end, but I just couldn't find another way of setting it up that I liked. Again, please let me know what you think- favorite parts/lines, general comments, etc. It would be much appreciated!


	4. Between Idea and Reality

**Part IV**

"_Between the idea  
And the reality  
Between the motion  
And the act  
Falls the Shadow."_

The kiss, languid and unhurried, momentarily erased Will's anxieties and cleared his mind of all but the slow movement of Jack's lips on his. He'd wanted to resist Jack, wanted to run and hide from the terrifying certainty in Jack's eyes, but the aching tenderness of Jack's hands on his face, stroking reassurance and safety into Will, had broken something in him. So he stayed, briefly allowing himself to sink in the easy warmth of the kiss and Jack's body against his, anchoring him even as his emotions threatened to overtake him.

One of Jack's hand slid around the cup the back of Will's neck, pulling Will closer to him as he deepened the kiss, mouths moving with greater urgency. The contrast between the fervent heat of Jack's mouth and the gentleness of his hand on Will's neck had Will spinning, all thoughts deserting him as sparks of long-denied pleasure darted through him.

The intense and unexpected wave of heat that flooded Will's body when Jack's tongue lightly brushed Will's lips had Will moaning, and the sound of his own voice shattered the blissful, mindless pleasure of the moment. He broke away from Jack, panting a desperate, "Wait!"

* * *

Will tasted better than Jack had ever imagined, and the feeling of Will's body against his own had him floating on a cloud of pleasure. Needing more, he stroked Will's lower lip with his tongue, drinking in the other man's low moan and relishing in the fact that _he_ had caused it.

Then, the sudden, sharp absence of Will's lips on his sent Jack reeling, and the single word Will gasped had Jack's heart dropping like a stone, an all-consuming dread dousing his pleasure as effectively as water to a fire.

"Will?" Jack kept his tone light, clinging to the fleeting hope that Will had stopped for some mundane reason, like that they head inside to escape the growing chill in the air.

Will's words came out in a rush. "I can't do this."

Jack felt as though the floor had fallen from beneath his feet. "What?"

"I'm so sorry, Jack." A panicky look had appeared in Will's eyes as his gaze darted around the room, focusing on everything but Jack. "I just—I can't do this."

"Why?" Jack asked bluntly. "It didn't seem like you were having much of a problem with it a couple seconds ago."

"Well, a couple of seconds ago, I wasn't exactly thinking straight, was I?" It was a credit to how upset Jack was that he didn't make some quip about Will never being able to think "straight". "I mean…Jack, what the hell are we doing?"

"I think it's pretty clear what we were doing, Will—even for someone who gets as little action as you do." Jack couldn't hold back the slight barb as his frustration and dread increased.

Will didn't even blink. "Jack, you know what I mean! This…I mean, we…" Will drew in a shaky breath. "This could never work."

To Jack, it sounded as though Will was trying to convince himself as much as Jack, so he persisted, still holding onto the faint hope of salvaging whatever spark had flared between them. "Why not?" he challenged.

"Jack, I like order and control and knowing what's going to happen next and you- Jack, you're chaos and unpredictability and _freedom _and I don't know if we..." Will finally looked at Jack, eyes filled with a mixture of desperation, fear, and sadness. Jack swallowed at the intensity of the gaze, but met Will's eyes unflinchingly as the other man continued. "I don't think I can do this. I'm sor—"

Before Will could finish his sentence, Jack leaned in and kissed him. It started off as fierce, with Jack pouring his anguish and denial into each heated press of his lips to Will's. Unable to resist, Will kissed back just as fervently, shuddering as Jack's hands traced restless patterns on his back.

Then, almost as suddenly as the kiss had started, it changed. Jack gentled the kiss, using lips and tongues to soothe as he licked his way into Will's mouth. His hands slowed their frantic movements on Will's back and came slowly down to rest on Will's hips, thumbs stroking a slow, steady rhythm on Will's sides.

Finally, the need for air forced the two apart, and the pair separated only as far as they needed in order to breathe. As his breath shuddered out in harsh pants, Will closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Jack's, struggling for control. They stood in silence for a few moments, before the fragile quiet was broken by Will's voice.

"That— that was a mistake." Each word was like a dagger to Jack's heart. "It can't—it doesn't change anything. I'm sorry." He pushed past Jack and started for the door back to the apartment.

He only made it a few steps before Jack grabbed his arm. If Jack was going to be left alone, then he at least going to get some sort of an explanation.

"Why are you so against this, Will? You can't say that you don't have feelings for me." Of this, Jack was sure. "Not after what just happened." When Will didn't respond, Jack reached out and clasped each of Will's hands in his own. "Will, for God's sake, _talk_ to me."

There was a long moment of silence, tense and oppressive. Just when Jack feared Will would refuse to speak, the quiet was broken.

"I…I can't lose you, Jack," Will said, so softly Jack almost missed it.

"Lose me?" Jack pulled away, confused. "Will, I'm the one trying to get _you_ to stay with _me_. If anything, I should—"

"I don't mean you as a romantic partner, Jack. I mean you as—well, as you." He waved a hand in Jack's direction. "I can't lose you as a friend, as someone who's been by my side for the last twenty years. And if this thing," he gestured between them, "doesn't work out, which it probably won't, knowing both our track records, it'll probably destroy our friendship and I can't let that happen, Jack." Will looked away, unwilling to meet Jack's gaze. "I can't lose you, Jack. I _won't_ lose y—"

Jack quickly cut him off. "Will, I'm not going anywhere. I haven't gone anywhere in the last twenty years, so what makes you think I'm going anywhere now?" Couldn't Will see how much Jack wanted this? Wanted _him_?

Will shook his head. "I'm not saying that you'll _want_ to leave, Jack. I'm saying that neither of us has a history of good relationships, and if this ends badly, you won't…you won't want to stay."

"But what is this doesn't end badly?" Jack persisted, unwilling to give up when he could still see the hint of desire hidden in Will's eyes. He _knew_ Will wanted this, but his friend's famous ability for self-sabotage was rearing its ugly head. "What if it goes well?" Will opened his mouth to respond, but Jack continued before he could answer. "Are you more afraid of this failing, or succeeding?"He knew his statement had some element of truth to it when Will fell silent, simply staring at the wall behind Jack's head.

Jack moved closer to Will, cupping the other man's cheek in his hand and forcing Will to meet his eyes. "Look, Will," Jack began, "I understand why you might have doubts about this. I'm not exactly known for having great relationships, or even ones that last longer than a week." Will smiled slightly at that, and Jack continued, encouraged. "But I've never entered a relationship with the intention of it lasting forever. I've never been with someone and wanted _that_ person to be the one I spend the rest of my life with. The next couple days, sure." Now it was Jack's turn to smile. "But, Will, you've already been with me forever as a friend, ever since the day you dragged me out of your literal closet and I dragged you out of your metaphorical one." Jack leaned his forehead against Will's. "I won't leave, Will. You won't get rid of me that easily."

* * *

He should have known that Jack wouldn't simply let him go, not without a fight. Jack was fire and energy, untamable and unrelenting.

Will closed his eyes against the flood of emotion Jack's words inspired. Rarely had he heard his friend sound so mature, so sure and achingly tender. "It's not just your history I'm worried about, Jack," he whispered, hoping his friend couldn't hear the tremble in his voice. It was breaking his heart to force himself to leave Jack, but the possibility of staying was too immense – too dangerous— to contemplate. He _had_ to leave.

Jack scoffed lightly. "What, you think that because your previous relationships haven't ended well, that this one automatically will, too?" He shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous, Will. It's not a good look on you. I'm not Michael. Or Vince. Or any of your other boyfriends."

"I know you're not, Jack. That's not what I mean." Will had no clue how to verbalize his hesitations, the sickening mix of delight and apprehension that coiled in the pit of his stomach whenever he considered the idea of a relationship with Jack. The two of them together could be wonderful…or it could end up destroying them both. And it was the latter possibility that had caused Will to continually shy away from what Jack was proposing at that very moment.

"Then what do you mean?"

Will searched his mind for the words to explain the chaotic mess of emotions churning through him, and came up empty. He shook his head. "I don't know."

Jack shook his head. "That's not good enough, Will."

"I know."

The pair stood in silence for a moment, Jack waiting for an explanation that Will couldn't give.

Finally, Jack sighed. "Look, Will. If you can look me in the eye and tell me that you don't want this, that you don't have any feelings for me at all, I'll walk away. We can just…pretend like this didn't happen." Will knew it wouldn't be anywhere near that easy to forget what had happened between them. Too much had changed. Too much had been revealed in the past minutes, in the brush of Jack's fingers against Will's face that bespoke of affection long hidden, in the way Will's lips had moved against Jack's that told of desire long suppressed.

"Jack—"

"_Will_." Jack's tone, insistence laced with quiet desperation, demanded an answer.

Will sighed. "I can't. I can't tell you that I don't want you—want _this_. But it's more complicated than just _wanting_, Jack." There was so much more at risk, and the stakes were just too high.

Jack shook his head, voice rising as fear and frustration bubbled into anger. "No, it's not! You're just making it more complicated! You're so worried about the what-ifs and the past and all these things that _don't matter_ that you can't let yourself, even for a second, imagine what it would be like to be happy." He wrapped a hand around the back of Will's neck, pulling Will to him in a short, fierce kiss before pulling away and whispering harshly, "Stop thinking, and for once in your life just let yourself _feel_."


	5. Between Potency and Existence

A/N: Well, this is it- the final part. Thank you to everyone who's read the story, and especially those who've taking the time to leave a review! I hope you enjoy the last chapter of this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. :D

**Part V**

"_Between the desire  
And the spasm  
Between the potency  
And the existence  
Between the essence  
And the descent  
Falls the Shadow."  
_

The words hung in the air, an almost tangible entity amidst the sounds of ragged breathing. Jack, hand still on Will's neck, could feel the tenseness in Will's body, could practically see the uncertainty radiating off of his friend.

After a minute, when Will still hadn't spoken, Jack sighed. "Fine," he said softly. "If that's what you want." He slid his hand off Will's neck and, without meeting the other man's eyes, grabbed his jacket off the couch, desperate to escape so he could lick his wounds in private.

"Wait, Jack—"

"No, Will," Jack spat, unbelievably hurt and upset as finally, _finally_ the swirling maelstrom of emotions caused by the emotional roller coaster he'd been dragged on coalesced into anger. "I've been waiting for almost twenty years, and you know what? I'm done." He reached for the door, and had just begun pulling it open when another hand came from behind and pushed it closed.

Jack whirled around, indignation clear on his face. "What the hell is your—"

Will's mouth on his silenced his outraged rant, tongue sliding into Jack's mouth and turning angry words into a low, involuntary moan. Instinctively, Jack wrapped his arms around Will's waist and pulled him closer, pushing aside his confusion at Will's actions in favor of soaking in the feel of Will's firm chest against his and the perfect way their bodies fit together. Dimly, Jack felt the door against his back as Will slowly moved them backwards. The feeling of the hard wood broke through the haze of pleasure that had clouded his mind and allowed the confusion he'd so conveniently shoved aside to swarm to the forefront of his mind. Cursing himself even as he did so, Jack broke away from the kiss and panted, "Will." The other man didn't seem to hear him, and kissed him again. Even though every fiber of Jack's being wanted to continue kissing Will, the part of his mind that demanded to know what had brought on Will's sudden change of heart led Jack to break the kiss yet again and push Will away. Jack immediately missed the feeling of Will's lips on his and the warmth of Will against him, but forced the desire away. "Will, _stop_."

* * *

Will heard Jack's voice only vaguely through the pleasure-induced fog in his mind, like it came from across the room. He'd tried so hard to resist Jack, tried convincing himself that starting a relationship with his best friend would only cause heartbreak. He'd resisted Jack's pleadings and arguments, but the hurt in his friend's voice as he walked towards the door…that had shattered every one of Will's remaining defenses. In that moment, he'd realized that the denial of his feelings for Jack would destroy their friendship more than the accepting of them.

So he'd finally given in, finally allowed himself to unashamedly and unreservedly touch, feel, _taste_. Jack felt so good against him, arms around Will's waist, chests against each other, Jack's mouth moving eagerly against his.

The feelings were so intense, so overwhelming, that it was like a slap in the face when Jack pushed him away. It took Will a second to push the desire in his mind aside and focus on the almost accusing look in Jack's eyes.

"Jack, what's wrong?" Will asked, voice catching as he tried to steady his breathing, utterly bewildered by the sudden change in Jack's demeanor. "I thought you wanted this!"

"I did—I do," Jack responded, leaning heavily against the door and swallowing before adding softly, "I just didn't think you did."

"Wha—Jack, that's crazy!" Of all the things Jack could have protested, that was the last one Will had expected. "Did that," he waved a hand in vague motions between them, "Did that not give you a clue?"

"Well, yeah," Jack retorted, "But what the hell was I supposed to think, Will? You could barely _look_ at me five minutes ago, and then all of the sudden, right when I've _finally_ taken the hint that you don't want me here and start heading out the door, you kiss me? I mean, what is going on? What do you _want_?"

Will could hear the hurt and frustration in Jack's voice and desperately sought to make them disappear. "Jack, I want you." Had always wanted him, always _needed_ him, and just been to blind to see it. To afraid to see it.

"Well, you didn't five minutes ago!" Jack shouted. "Then, you were spouting some crap about all of our past relationships and pretty much saying you didn't trust either of us enough to make this work!"

"No Jack, it's not that—" Will tried to explain, a panicky feeling rising inside him.

"Then what the hell is it?" Jack's voice demanded an answer. "I know it's not that there's someone else you're interested in, because you would have told me about him. I know it's not that you don't have feelings for me, or you think that I don't have feelings for you." After all that had happened, that was no longer a question in the slightest. "Is it me? Is there something about me that makes you think this won't work?"

"Oh, _Jack_, it's not you, sweetheart—" Will frantically sought to reassure his best friend. It had _never_ been about Jack.

"Then who is it?"

"It's me!" The two words rang out, cutting through the tension-filled air like a knife. Jack fell silent, staring at Will in confusion. After a long moment, Will broke Jack's gaze, shifting his weight nervously, already wishing he could take back the words that had sprung involuntarily from his mouth.

"What?" The question, though only a single word, conveyed Jack's bewilderment and desire for an explanation. Will sighed, knowing he owed Jack at least that much. Even if, at the end of it all, Jack still walked out that door and left Will standing in the tattered vestiges of his life.

"I have a history of…of somehow managing to drive the people close to me away. Boyfriends. Even family." Will spoke haltingly, meeting Jack's eyes for a split second before glancing away. "And I get it. I mean, I'm not exactly the easiest person to…to be with." He forced a small laugh that, even to his ears, sounded horribly fake. "I'm obsessive about keeping the apartment clean, I need to have everything in it's place, I'm boring, I'm—"

"Don't you think I know that?" Jack interrupted. "I've known you for almost twenty years, Will, and I haven't run screaming yet! Do you think that'll change somehow if we get together?"

"I didn't want to risk it!" Will said, the words sounding foolish even to his own ears. "I know it's stupid," he sighed, taking a tentative step closer to Jack. "I just—Jack, I just couldn't risk the same thing happening with you, no matter how ridiculous it sounds. I convinced myself a long time ago that the possibility that there could be something…_more_ between us wasn't worth risking our friendship. Like I said earlier, I couldn't risk losing you." Will closed the distance between them and took Jack's hands in his own, relieved to see that the irritation and mistrust in Jack's eyes had faded into curiosity and tentative hope. "And then you turned to walk out that door, and all I could think was, _I'm losing him—in a second, he's going to walk out that door, thinking that I'm rejecting him when I actually lo_—" Will abruptly stopped, unable to say the word. He'd said it to Jack before, of course, but now…not it had a different meaning. He let out a long breath. "You were going to leave," he said simply. "And I couldn't let that happen." He squeezed Jack's hands. "It's always been you, Jack. Always."

"Oh, Will," Jack breathed, and Will almost collapsed in relief when he saw the frustration had left Jack's face completely, replaced by pure affection. He slid his hands up Will's arms to wrap around his shoulders and pull Will closer to him in a hug. Will's eyes slid closed as he relished the warmth of his friend against him, then flew open at the sudden smack of Jack's hand against the back of his head. He jerked back, utterly confounded by both the action and the grin on Jack's face.

"Jack, what the hell was-"

"That was for putting me through hell, Will," Jack scolded. "And this," he leaned in and kissed Will, long and deep, "is for finally getting your head out of your ass and growing a pair. It sure took you long enough."

Will wanted to be outraged, but Jack was just too damn cute when he smirked. "So, I'm forgiven?" he breathed against Jack's mouth.

Jack just answered with another kiss.

_Fin_


End file.
